A couple of days later, as Amy and I walked into the house, my mother said, “Hi Kids.”

Amy and I both said, “Hi mom.”

That put a smile on my mother’s face. Then she said, “Tom. There’s something on your bed for you.”

“What?”, I asked.

“Just go and look.”

Amy and I walked back to my room, and there was a bag, from the store where my mom works, on my bed. I walked over to it, looked inside, and there was a box inside. I took the box out, set it on my bed, and removed the top.

Amy and I began a routine of me picking her up at her parent’s house, and going to the university, then alternating between having dinner with her parents or mine, and then studying. On the days we were at her house, I’d just go home. On the days we were at my house, I’d take her home, and then go back to my house. Not a convenient arraignment, but we were with each other.

There were days, when we were at my house, that Tammy was there. I'd stay as Tammy until it was time to take her home, then change back to Tom, because I'd always go in and talk to her mom and dad.

One day in late January, on the way to school, Amy and I heard on the radio that they were forecasting a blizzard, and it was supposed to hit sometime in the afternoon.

We’d parked the station wagon, and walked separately to the student union. I was getting nervous. I had the feeling that if I talked to Al, that what I’d say wouldn’t come out right. But I’d promised Maria that I’d do this, so ...

Amy had moved away four years ago, and somehow I’d survived those years of high school. My Cousin Mary helped me by bringing more of Tammy out. Mary and I even had a talk that made me realize how I felt about Amy.

It was a Saturday morning, and my classes at the university started next Wednesday. And I was off on my usual Saturday morning walk. I headed for my favorite park, and it's many trails. And for some reason, I decided to take the trail that went past the lake. I haven't walked this trail since that day, four years ago, when Amy moved away. What drew me to it today? I don't know.

The next two weeks went much faster then I, and I think even Amy, wanted them to. Amy and I walked to and from school together every day. We all graduated from junior high school on that last Friday. And there was a big party planned for Saturday to celebrate all of our friends making it to high school. Plus, it was going to be a surprise going away party for Amy and her family.

Amy had talked me into letting her meet Tammy, and we’d talked to my mother about it. My mother had left us in the kitchen for a minute and had just walked back in, and she said, “Kids. I don’t want you to be mad at me, but we need to talk. And I invited Amy’s mother to join us.”

Like I'd said, I’d started walking every day, that I could, after the cast was off, trying to build up strength in my leg before school started. At first, it was short walks, but they became longer and longer. I worked up to the point that I'd walk to the local park and walk the trails. It's a big park and has a number of hiking trails. And on rainy days, when I was at home, I was dressing as a girl.

Then one day as I was leaving home to go for my walk, Amy saw me, and yelled, “Hey Tommy. Wait up.”

I stopped, looked at her, she ran over to me, and asked, “Where you goin'?”

“For a walk.”, I replied. “I’m trying to build up the strength in my broken leg.”

I could hear strange noises, but couldn't make out what they were. And the last thing that I could remember was being on the way home with my mom, aunt, and cousin, and talking about our day at the museum, and some of the things that we’d seen.

I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn't cooperate. Finally, I was able to get my eyes open, and the bright light hurt them. Everything was blurry. The first thing to come into focus was the ceiling. I don’t have white ceiling tiles in my room! What the heck. This isn’t my room. Where am I?

This is the story of Tommy, who, when we first meet him, is a very curious twelve-year-old. He has to know about everything, how it works, why does it feel like this, what happens if I do this, and so on. One day he asks his mother, what’s it like to dress in pretty things? And, as happens, once he starts dressing in pretty things there is no going back. But what’s behind this? Is he a cross-dresser, or is there something more behind it. Why does he want to do it more? Why does the girl next door like it when he dresses in pretty clothes? Why does he feel he is the girl that he’s dressed as? Why do all of his friends and family accept this part of him? Will a trip to New Mexico answer some of these questions, or will he have more questions than answers when he returns home? Will there be another girl, another spirit? Will he or she find himself or herself? Will he like what he finds?

Direct sequel to Black Ring. Jack(y) is still struggling with her sexuality and her relationship with her husband, Chris. Jill contemplates having a child by using her sister-in-law, Sarah, as a surrogate mother. Jacky and Jill work to reconcile their differences while co-existing in the same body at work and in the home.

Jill makes her own way towards transitioning to womanhood but is caught by her parents due to a health scare. The story of Jill's mental and physical transformation continues in this third installment.

Involuntary Cross Dressing/TG - For two years, Elliot's wicked stepmother and horrible stepbrothers have been forcing him into to clean the house, dressing him in his mother's old clothes and working him to the bone without rest....

Now, on the night of the Princess's Ball, the 20 year old orphan dreams of escaping to the palace and ingratiating himself with a well-to-do woman.

When a bumbling fairy godmother bursts through the window, he thinks his dreams have been answered! Of course, they're actually just beginning.

Breakfast went smoothly. Rebecca had kept an eye on his coffee, but it hadn’t been needed. He’d drunk every drop of the coffee, obviously relishing each sip of the limited caffein he allowed himself. He’d eaten his food, as well, somehow finding joy in his healthy food. Rebecca would have liked to believe it was due to her own cooking skills, but her interaction with that grapefruit had been limited to a single swift knife cut. Most likely, he’d simply trained his tongue to actually enjoy those tastes.

Rebecca pushed her shoulder into the gap between door and doorway, watching Daniel unpack. She watched as Daniel lifted a heavy box, the muscles in his back tensing and rippling as she watched. He’d removed the white t-shirt he’d worn in, on the pretense of it being a hot day - and the shirt had clung to his skin with sweat, barely able to come off. Slender arms stretching the material tight, in front of his chest. It would have been…. Delicious. If she’d been watching a girl.

Alan Archer, a veteran CIA agent, contracts a disease and the only hope is an experimental procedure. He wakes up from the procedure to find he is no longer the man he used to be. Can he now find justice as a young woman where everyone around her is lying to her?

Bob Preston didn’t look anything like I would have expected and yet I knew him the moment I saw him. He arrived with Jill on Friday in the early evening. They were on their way to dinner, Jill’s treat, and stopped off to view what work I had assembled.

Introduction: In a sense there is a connection to this story and several other non-magic stories I’ve written. Two characters from Mike and Ashley show up briefly. They would be Mike and Ashley. This story, Like “Mike and Ashley”, “Discovery”, and “Cynthia and the Queen of Knight” takes its storyline from the work of someone else. In this case, a production by an Italian fellow named Joseph Green. The story is 16 chapters in length plus an epilogue. I’ve done as much tweaking as I can. Any errors are mine and I will gladly accept constructive criticism; as long as you’re nice.

We meet Anita Okoye at Fort Campbell, Kentucky as the trial of a man who drugged and raped her comes to an end. Anita had a stellar military career, and if she had stayed in the service, she probably would have gone very far in her career. However, after a very traumatic assault and rape, she decides to look elsewhere for a career. By the way, Anita is gay, and that is certainly not a negative issue..

The saga of Danny and Jessa comes to a close. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me and special thanks to Lizzy Bennet, whose input has made this a much better and fuller story than I expected.

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Week 33 - the baby was as big as celery, which I found hard to believe. I had, as of my last doctor’s appointment, I had gained twenty-seven pounds and was now a DD cup, which Danny enjoyed. My belly was big enough to have its own zip code.

I continue to exercise, four hours a day. The I-def gravity isn’t as destructive as no gravity, but it’s not great. And I’m bored.

I try to sleep less, and get down to the recommended third of a day. I think the planet is a 25 hour day, and like smart people (smarter than the Babylonians, anyway) they use metric time. Thank god they’re base 10 or that would really be hell.

Officer Barry White confronts the greatest law breaker of all: a woman breast feeding in public. Things get out of hand as he coincidentally has to deal with the same woman for the same offense all over town. To make matters worse, Officer White faces breast problems of his own.

It’s been another week on the run, I’m almost back on course, and I’m horny.

Really horny.

Really really horny.

How horny am I? I’m beginning to think seriously about toys.

Ci and Lia either didn’t have any or didn’t want to use them on me, and for that I’m thankful. I squirmed every time they tried to put something in my pussy, and after only one night they stopped trying.

Emma had woken up earlier than usual that Saturday. He felt he had to clean, sew, wash. Do some of the things he had neglected during his time as a man. Technically, he still was one but he felt so much different. Somewhat girly.
He dusted over his tv, set straight his and his roommate's stuff and decided to take a bath. Just before, he got a call from a friend:
"Hey Emmanuel what you doing?" His friend asked
"Nothing actually. What's up?" Emma asked with his voice reeking of indifference

I had been lying in bed years ago when I thought up this story. Some of the themes, conversation and people are non fiction but it's mostly fiction. The first three chapters were written much before the rest so they may seem somewhat different. Thanks for taking the time!

This one started as an entry to the Feb 2016 Crush Mini-Competition. The name came from the game (a former, temporary addiction) but the game has nothing to do with the story. As happens on occasions, the story kept growing, and I was only half way through when the competition deadline went whistling past. I persevered though.

I actually thought I hadn’t finished it, so it was a little surprise, when I dug it out earlier today, to find that it was complete, albeit that most of it seemed to have been written on my phone, which meant that parts were all but unreadable, thanks to the Autokorrect Nazis in my former piece of junk. For that, and many other reasons, I will never be tempted to buy a Widows phone again.

Anyway, I’ve spent an enjoyable day reacquainting myself with this little piece, and fixing (I hope) most if not all of the buggerups. I hope you all find it just as enjoyable. Please share your thoughts and feelings at the end. Remember, it takes twenty-six muscles to frown, four to smile, and only one to click on that comment button (then maybe one or two more to add some text). I really love hearing from you. Private messages are good if you want to stay anonymous.

I’ve been on the station nearly a week. It’s taking this long for Bob’s Gun’s to get their money together, and I’m beginning to think they’re jerking me around.

But that’s not why I’m staying.

I’ve been sleeping in that weird bed for three nights. Well we do a lot less than sleep. That is, very little sleep goes on in the bed. Sort of.

For three days I’ve slept in, while Lia goes off to work her ten hours. Hard is the kind of place that stay open at her convenience, and the regulars know when to come. The non-regulars find somewhere soft to drink.

Perhaps one of the greatest comedic pianists of our time, the "Clown Prince of Denmark" Victor Borge was known for inventing what he called "Inflationary Language". It's premise was simple: to every word that included a number or number sound, he simply added one to that part. Thus, wonderful became TWOderful, before became beFIVE, created became beNINEd, and so fifth. Here is my take on a classic Grimm's fairy tale, Cinderella. I hope you enjoy it.

Ryan Morgan, an injured veteran and recently divorced takes a luxury cruise with his last savings. His life held nothing more for him and felt this might be the perfect way to end his life. While on the cruise he meets a young woman that he is immediately drawn to but her own wounds only allow them to be friends. When her life is threatened during a shipwreck Ryan decides to risk his own life to save hers only to find himself on death’s door on a remote island.